Fond Of
by Sabet
Summary: Alfred gets a pet cat. Arthur's cat Lizzy is Not Pleased about this. Pre-established USUK.


I am not fond of car rides.

I am also not fond of vacuum cleaners, doorbells, the v-e-t, and overly excitable children. But car rides are at the top of the list, especially when said car ride is followed by a plane ride and yet another car ride.

I yowl pitifully. If Food Man (he doesn't deserve to be called his real name) wants to keep seeing his friend in the States, I am going to make him as miserable as he makes me.

"Hush, Lizzy," he says absently, then curses as he forgets to check his left side before turning onto a busy street.

When he's finally driving at a constant speed (though it takes a while – after all his visits here, how is he still uncomfortable on the right side of the road?), he tries to pet me through the holes in my carrier. It's too much trouble to bite him, so I back away and keep meowing. I don't stop, even though he asks nicely, snaps at me, or tries to ignore me. By the time we arrive at Food Man's friend Alfred's house, my voice is actually getting tired, but I keep complaining out of principle.

"All right, Lizzy," he says, turning the car off, "we're here. You can stop that racket now." He picks up the carrier and steps out of the car. I only yelp once when he tilts it a bit too far forward, but I am in a much better mood now that I'm outside and Arthur can't spring a surprise trip to the v-e-t.

He sets me down on the top step outside the house and is about to knock on the front door when it opens. He tries to turn his raised hand into a cough, but I don't know why he even bothered, since Alfred never notices anything anyway. "Arthur!" he yells happily, pulling my human into a hug.

"And you brought Lizzy too!" he says, bending down to my carrier. He opens the door, picks me up, and plants a kiss on the top of my head. (I pull my ears back, but as usual he's oblivious.) "Wait until you see what's new inside!" Still holding me with one hand, he grabs Arthur's with the other and nearly drags him inside, leaving my carrier outside. Good riddance to it.

"Just wait right there," he says to both me and Arthur and drops me on the couch. I curl up into a ball, trying to preserve some of my dignity after that manhandling. Alfred runs out of the room like a hyperactive puppy – it's not one of his more endearing traits.

Arthur sits on the couch next to me and strokes behind my ears. "I hate these couches," he tells me, though he sounds rather fond of them. "They're not comfortable and have springs in all the wrong places."

I don't know what he's talking about. This patch of sofa is almost perfect, and in another hour or so it'll be directly in the sun. I'm considering purring when Alfred comes back. And in his arms is a brown _thing_.

"This is Jefferson!" he says happily. "Isn't he adorable?"

No. No. He didn't. He did _not_ get a cat. _I _rule this house, and I certainly don't share. I'm sure Arthur won't put up with this mad-

He's standing up. He's petting this _Jefferson_ (ugly name, if you ask me) on the head, and he's – he's scratching it under the chin?

No. Absolutely not. Arthur only does that for me. Not some stupid ugly common brown tabby cat.

I jump down from the couch and I stalk out of the room and into the kitchen. I doubt they even noticed I left.

The one advantage of Alfred having a cat is that there's food on the floor. Even if it is dry food. I unhappily take a few bites until something nudges my back.

'Hey, Lizzy!' Alfred's stupid dog Lincoln greets me. I give him a Look and try to go back to eating. He's been swatted a ridiculous number of times, but apparently he's learnt nothing. 'What do you think of Jefferson?' he asks, his tail waving eagerly.

'I'm none too fond of him, thanks.'

'Aw, he's a great cat! I almost like him as much as I like you!' And to show just how much he likes me, he licks the side of my head. I wipe at his slobber with my paw.

'I honestly don't understand why I put up with you,' I tell him and take a drink from the water dish.

'Because you like me too!'

I growl a bit at him and am about to tell him exactly what I think of him when a blur of brown fur comes shooting over me and lands between me and Lincoln. 'Is he bothering you? Because I can take care of him,' Jefferson informs me.

'My hero.' I turn to stalk out of the room. 'He happens to be my friend, you know, even if he is a bit dumb sometimes. You, on the other hand, are a complete stranger, and to put it bluntly I don't care very much for you.'

'But-'

'Don't give me that.' All I want to do is go curl up on Arthur's lap, but a quick peek into the room shows his lap, er, otherwise occupied. Stupid humans, they're as bad as rabbits.

I feel a nudge on my side. 'Why don't you like me?' Jefferson asks, his ears back a little.

'Do I really have to explain?'

'Yes.'

I jump up to the kitchen counter, sit down in a clean bowl lying out, and begin grooming myself. 'You come in here out of nowhere when I'm the, if you'll pardon the expression, top dog around here, Arthur scratched you under the chin and he only does that for _me_, and you feel some stupid need to protect me. There, three good reasons. Do you need any more?'

'Yeah.' He jumps up next to me and licks my ear. 'Because it's not my fault Alfred picked me from the shelter, I don't even like being scratched there, and it's a nice thing to do!'

'Don't do that again,' I hiss as a warning. 'Sometimes you can take an instant dislike to something and save time. That's what Arthur does all the time.'

'Yeah, and sometimes you can take an instant like to something and save time. That's what Alfred does all the time.'

'Stop changing everything I say!' I'd move, but I've just gotten comfortable, and besides, the sunbeams coming through the window will hit this spot in just a few minutes.

'But it's true, you know. Alfred like Arthur from the very start. Lincoln told me everything! All about how they've known each other forever, but Arthur never said anything even though it was obvious to everyone that they were in love, so Alfred finally got impatient and just kissed him one day!'

...No one had ever told me any of this. Not even Lincoln. I glare down at the stupid dog who's still there eating his food like none of this is happening. 'Go on,' I say, against my better judgment.

'Go on with what?'

'About Alfred and Arthur. I like hearing happy stories about them.' Largely because the only time I actually hear anything is when Arthur collapses on his bed after they fight and I have to cheer him up if I expect any food for the next couple days, because otherwise he'd stay in his room under the blankets.

'Well, Alfred's been all excited about Arthur visiting for the past month or so and he's made it almost impossible to get a decent nap in. And he was really looking forward to us meeting too, so don't think he forgot about you.'

I pretend not to be pleased with this information. 'What else?'

'There's-'

"Jefferson!" Alfred claps his hands once. "What did I tell you about the counters? Get off!" We both stare at him. "Down! Now!"

Jefferson jumps down. I, however, have been watching that sunbeam for too long to let it escape me. Alfred walks over and picks me up. "You're not nearly as heavy as Jefferson," he comments. "But you still gotta get down."

I'm in no position to do anything but squirm and claw uselessly a bit at his wrists, but luckily Alfred is not a complete idiot and puts me down. His hair is even more mussed up than usual, and his face is just a bit flushed. He perfectly matches Arthur, who puts his arms around Alfred from behind and rests his chin on his shoulder before kissing him on the cheek. "I thought you hated affection," Alfred teases.

"Only in public."

He laughs. "We are being watched, you know."

"I'm sure Lizzy doesn't mind," he says pulling Alfred around into a kiss. Wonderful. I watch for a moment or two before growing utterly bored of the two. At least now the couch is free.

...

The visit passes slowly. That is to say, exactly my speed. No one is getting up at ridiculously early times but refusing to feed me. I can always pester Alfred for a snack late at night and Arthur in the morning, except when they kick me out of the bedroom and lock the door. When that happens, I usually go find Jefferson. I still don't particularly care for him, but he does tell good stories.

He asks why I always want to hear about the humans. When I tell him, he replies, 'Arthur really only tells you the bad stuff?'

'Yes. And it's my job to make him feel better.'

'Well, Alfred only ever tells me the good stuff. Why don't you tell me a sad story and then I'll cheer you up?'

I think for a few moments to pick a good story. 'A couple of years ago, Arthur got Alfred a rabbit for Christmas because the stupid loudmouth wouldn't shut up about wanting another pet or some other reason.'

'Oh, yeah, Lincoln told me this story. Wasn't its name just Bunny?'

'Alfred's good at names, I suppose. But then Bunny died and he tried to cover it up and hoped Arthur wouldn't notice if he bought a new rabbit to take its place-'

'But he did.'

'Arthur was _heartbroken_. He shouted some really nasty stuff about how Alfred obviously thought very little of him if he thought he could get away with something like this, and didn't he trust him enough to just tell him, and he would have gotten him a new rabbit if only he'd known, and he just went on and on and on about that. If it weren't for me, he'd probably still be hiding miserably in his room.'

'That's cute of you.'

He licks my head and I swish my tail angrily in response. 'What have I told you about doing that?'

'I'll stop when you stop being so adorable.'

'You're so sweet.' I hope the sarcasm isn't lost on him, though knowing Jefferson it probably is.

And it is. He bats playfully at at my tail. 'So that means it's my turn to tell you a story.'

'I suppose so.' I lie down and rest my head on my paws.

'All right, so Lincoln told me this one, but it's still really great. It's how Alfred and Arthur got together. And Lincoln could tell me because he was _there_, you know?'

I wonder to myself why the stupid dog had never told _me _any of this. Probably it was because I never asked.

'Anyway, Alfred was taking Lincoln for a walk, and the dumb dog goes chasing a squirrel, right? Chased it all around a tree and got completely twisted up. And since Alfred's holding on to the leash, he's kind of disoriented too. So he lets go of the leash and tries to walk straight but winds up falling right in front of Arthur, who he's kind of been in love with since middle school.'

'How long ago _was_ this?'

'Dunno.' Jefferson licks his paw and grooms the top of his head. 'Five years ago? Six?'

So I'm not going to be in this scene for another year or two. That would explain why I never knew Arthur studied abroad.

'But yeah, Arthur makes his "ew get away from me" face, you know, the one that he makes whenever Lincoln shakes mud on him, but Alfred's really out of it and doesn't notice and makes Arthur help untangle him. And it took about two hours because halfway through they started kissing behind the tree. Lincoln said he nearly froze to death.'

Huh. That was actually a really nice story. Even if I don't understand why humans do half the stuff they do.

'And I was kinda hoping we'd be like that.'

I'd been starting to drift off to sleep, but all of a sudden I was awake again. 'What?'

'Well, not with the kissing part, that would be a bit weird. With the connection they had. But I guess not. I mean, I like you, but I don't think you like me all that much.'

For the first time, I admit to myself that Jefferson may not be all that bad. 'I don't hate you, if that's what you're thinking,' I inform him. 'And sometimes I don't mind the company.'

His ears perk up. 'I...That's actually really nice, coming from you.'

'Oh, be quiet,' I reply as I curl up in a ball and go to sleep.

...

They've had a big fight. This whole visit, they've been sparring, and Arthur's spent more than one night on the pullout bed in the guest room instead of in Alfred's room, though I'm always allowed to sleep at the foot of the huge bed. This one, though, is enough to make Arthur pack his bags and rebook his flight home for one that evening. But I am not about to let him leave so easily.

"Come on, Lizzy, get out from there," he coaxes, his head resting on the floor so he can see me under the bed. "We're going home."

No we're not. I've finally warmed up to Jefferson and his stories and his way of acting almost like a dog at times, and I am not about to leave and go back to stuffy old London where even the rats act proper all the time.

"Lizzy, I am asking nicely," Arthur says, and reaches toward me to pull me out.

It is physically impossible to remove a cat from under a bed if the cat does not want to come out. I shrink away from his arm and hide behind some boxes of God-knows-what-Alfred-keeps-under-there.

'Hey!'

'Jefferson!' Because who else would be hiding back there for no reason whatsoever. 'Wh-what are you doing?'

'Figured you'd come hide back here eventually to avoid going home.' I curse myself quietly for being so predictable. 'But you do have to go home, you know.'

'I don't want to!' I cringe at how Lincoln-like I sound saying that, but I don't particularly care. 'You'll probably say you knew this already, but I'm kind of starting to tolerate you, and I don't warm up to just anyone this quickly, ask Lincoln sometime. And this is a huge fight they just had, so I don't know when I'd get to come back.'

"Lizzy, I'm going to leave you here, do you want that? Come _here_!" Arthur sticks his entire upper body under the bed in an attempt to reach me.

'_Do_ you want that?' Jefferson asks when I show less than no signs of moving.

I have to think for a moment. On the one hand, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Alfred would probably drive me crazy. On the other, so would being almost completely alone now that I know the madness of daily life here. 'I...I do,' I decide.

For once, he is speechless. 'Was not expecting that at all,' he finally says. 'All right, I was, but I didn't think you'd actually say it.'

'You're impossible sometimes.'

'You love me.'

'I tolerate you,' I correct.

'No, you love me,' he insists. And he may be right, but there is no reason for me to admit as much.

"That's it, Lizzy! I have to leave _now_! Have fun staying here!" Arthur tries to get out but evidently he wedged himself under the bed and _cannot_ get out. I peek around the corner of the box to watch him struggle.

"Arthur?" I hear Alfred's footsteps as he enters the room and watch Arthur say an expletive or two under his breath. "Arthur, I know you're probably still really mad at me and whatever, but I don't want you to leave without me saying sorry. Even if it was your fault, I completely overreacted."

"Is there a reason you're telling me this?" Arthur grunts, trying to extract himself. "Normally-"

"Yeah, yeah, normally I never apologize. But I know you won't answer any texts, listen to voicemails, check your Facebook, or do anything to let me say sorry when you're at home, so I figured I'd better do it now so it's entirely your job."

A brief pause, then "Are you stuck?" And when Arthur doesn't answer, "You _are_ stuck!"

"Sod off," Arthur spits back at Alfred's amused laughter.

"I shouldn't be laughing this hard, I really shouldn't," he chokes out. "Hang on." When he has enough breath back, he lifts the side of the bed the tiniest bit off the ground so that Arthur can wriggle his way out. I know him well enough to be shocked when he mutters a "thank you."

"It's nothing. I just hate having you mad at me, babe." And presumably this is where he's making that ridiculous face of his. "Puppy dog eyes," Arthur calls it.

"Don't call me that," he snaps, though it's without any real malice. He won't say it for a few days at least, but he's already forgiven Alfred.

"All right, _Arthur_. Are you gonna stay?"

"I can't rebook, the flight is in three hours."

"Then cancel. Stay here."

"You can come visit me for a change."

Jefferson and I exchange a Look. At least when cats get mad at each other it's for longer than five minutes. 'They'll never change, will they?' I wonder.

'I hope not. I want to come visit you in London!'

I hope he likes car rides more than I do.


End file.
